


Natural Disasters and the Recovery Thereof

by TotallyHuman



Series: Show me where to put pressure (I'll make sure it's done right) [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Arguements, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, So I'm rating it explicit in advance, The smut comes in chapter 3, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7909876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallyHuman/pseuds/TotallyHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro is having problems, and it's time both he and Sendak laid down their hands and put their cards on display if they ever hope to make anything out of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. feel the ground shake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's just havin a tough time and he and Sendak are gonna talk about it. Because a single post-sex convo doesn't pave a painless road.
> 
> But like this chapter is just Shiro freakin a little. The talking comes next time. And then the sex.

_What is it like to you? How do we play out in your head?_

It’s been one of those days.

The one where Shiro’s morning starts with his mind jolting awake from a night plagued by vicious memories. Sweat soaks Shiro’s pillow and he can’t catch his breath, his head throbs as it attempts to gain a grip on his reality while his body stays tense and immovable no matter how much Shiro tries to raise an arm or a leg. Fear is coiled tightly in a spring between Shiro’s heart and his sternum, ready to burst his chest open at any given moment. It takes Shiro a full five minutes of this torturous, frozen position to realize that the room is not bathed in purple; that Shiro isn’t in the Galra hands anymore.

He isn’t. He isn’t. _He isn’t_. The mantra is true, it’s a tangible reality. Yet it clears only enough of the ruin in Shiro’s mind to get him moving, to make him able to get up and pretend like the past isn’t eating away at every edge and frayed thought in his brain.

Shiro does exactly that. He gets dressed and makes his way to the dining room to eat breakfast with whoever else may be up. It’s almost peaceful and relieving when there’s only Hunk and Pidge eating. Shiro can listen to the two discuss a flurry of topics from oddly intricate inventions to ridiculous jokes. Shiro laughs too, he does. He enjoys them so much, their youth and happiness in the midst of everything their lives, like Shiro’s, have been forced to change into. He’s got youth too, he knows. But they’re so strong; and Shiro can feel the way his hands are continuously clammy, the sweat on the nape of his neck, and the desert dryness of his mouth. Is Shiro as strong as they think he is, as they need him to be? Or is he an imposter? When did Shiro become a ball of broken glass, walking around in the shape of a human?

“So,” Hunk says with a sliver of casual caution, “do you really trust Sendak, Shiro?”

Shiro wasn’t prepared for the question. Both Hunk and Pidge stare at him and Shiro’s eyes are wide.

 _Trust me, Champion_ , a memory drawls in Shiro’s ear.

_You don’t honestly think I’m that stupid, do you?_

_Perhaps. Are you telling me_ **_no_** _?_ A looming sensation. It appeals disgustingly, Shiro wants to vomit at the desire. No, say no. Does Shiro say no or does he surrender? He doesn’t wonder much about the consequences now; enslaved by aliens without the company of his closest friends. _I didn’t think so_. Shiro isn’t upset. He defeated the old champion, he released Matt from this fate even if it meant sending him to an only slightly lesser evil. Shiro shouldn’t -

“Do I trust Sendak?” Shiro replies. He needs to recover - quickly. It’s okay. “I think he has potential. He laid a good foundation with helping that colony. Do you guys trust him?” That’s what’s important. “Is he making you uncomfortable?”

Hunk casts his eyes down and Pidge gazes off in thought for a few seconds.

“Well, if I’m being honest,” Hunk says and Shiro holds his breath for a heartbeat until hunk continues, “he’s a lot less of a problem than I had thought he would be. I mean - Sendak’s still kind of, well, shady - ex-Galra status aside - but I think maybe it’s because I hated pirates.” Hunk says, covering one eye with his hand at the end to mimic Sendak’s eye patch. “They’re kind of assholes, I’ve always thought.”

Pidge doubles over with laughter for a few moments and Shiro smiles. He hopes he smiles. “I dunno,” Pidge chips in, “I think you’re right, Shiro. Sendak did give us a pretty big win and he has had the guidelines we set up that he hasn’t really broken, right?”

 _Do you feel broken?_ He laughed. _You’re too good a fighter to break. Should I do something different? Does it matter?_

 **_Possibly_** **.**

_Possibly you’re broken or possibly it doesn’t matter?_

“That’s good to hear, you guys. You know it’s important to me, alright. I’m not going to risk the team.” They nod contentedly. That’s what's important.

Shiro suddenly has this overwhelming urge to get away. Talking about Sendak is making it all worse. He’s already been through this. He’s talked to Sendak about moving forward. That was supposed to _help_. It was supposed to stop Shiro from feeling this way, to make the memories stop clawing to the forefront of his mind and twisting into a multi-headed monster.

It’s in the past. It’s over.

Shiro knows better than that as he excuses himself from the table and heads to - anywhere else.

So Shiro finds the others and spends a good amount of time talking about the course of action for the team proceeding the liberation, seeing as the tables have turned on how they can approach the Galra facilities, with Allura and Keith featuring Lance’s occasional interjection. Those interjections mostly consist of insults that Keith doesn’t even try to not indulge. It does a good job of forcing Shiro to concentrate his attention elsewhere. Buried memories dig themselves up and whisper in his ear, trying to drag Shiro down backwards into a purple grave. But they, the others, are keep him grounded, sane.

Inevitably they aren’t enough though, their company creeps on him. Growing overbearing, not that Shiro would dare let them feel that it was.

Coran entered the room with Shiro’s back turned and for a moment Shiro was in front of Sendak, listening to Haxus making his entrance. Shiro snapped upright at the sound, trying not to seem too taken aback when he looked to Allura and the others again.

Allura seemed to see through the veil. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, her lips parting. No, _no_. This is not their weight to carry. Shiro’s name is just leaving her tongue when he cuts her off.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a little off today, guys.” Shiro takes the initiative, garnering everyone’s attention. “I’m going to go to the practice room for a while and work it off.” Shiro says as he steps away from them. Keith is watching Shiro expectantly, Lance is bickering with Coran already. Allura is still looking at him in _that_ way, with too much concern. “I’ll talk to you later.” Shiro assures them, trying his damndest to flash a soft smile.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Shiro grits his teeth as the gladiator’s staff collides with his suits bracer, sending him back a couple inches. The robot is on a medium training sequence. Something tough to keep Shiro sweating and on his toes for reasons other than his own head, but not enough to wear him out so fast that he has no choice but to take a break too early. That only gives Shiro’s thoughts and memories even more of a window to attack his mind.

Which they’re doing anyways.

Shiro could feel them in the strain of his muscles, winding and adding to the stress in them. Shiro’s expression is twisted up, focused to the point of damage. He isn’t handling this well, allowing everything to exacerbate the cracks that splinter across his being. He ducks the gladiators next blow and brings his elbow down hard into the back of it’s neck. But it counters smoothly, whipping around and striking Shiro’s side.

He takes the blow with a grunt and swivels on his heel to reign down several consecutive moves, all of which the gladiator parries. Then Shiro brings up one knee to the robot’s would-be stomach and clocks it.

Yes, this is perfect. An aggressive outlet that isn’t - isn’t Sendak. That doesn’t sound right in Shiro’s head, but it’s not wrong and he knows it. Sendak is an aggressive outlet for all of this despite the fact that Shiro is trying to make it - them, their _thing_ , malleable. To mold it into something new. What does Shiro need to do? What can he do? Shiro _knows_ \- he knows what needs to be done but he just - he doesn’t want to. He needs to circumvent this. He needs to _block_ , get the gladiator in a hold if that’s possible -

The gladiator dips around Shiro into his peripheral vision. _Damn_ , Shiro shouldn’t have let his thoughts become so distracting.

The gladiator snaps it’s stave against Shiro’s back, forcing Shiro to one knee. A flash of purple, a growl, the sound of a door opening - “End sequence! End it!” Shiro barks before the situation gets out of hand. He can hear the robot sinking away but it’s too late. He’s left with only his own heavy breathing in - in a dark room. It’s so dark. Shiro is… he _isn’t_ …

Footsteps, boots on the floor right in front of him. “Shiro,” that voice. Oh god -

“Don’t touch me - !” Shiro’s voice cracks as he pushes away from the set of feet. The purple is everywhere. He needs to _get out_ \- to _escape_ \- fight, he always has to fight, that’s the rules -

The Galra towers over him and Shiro raises one arm, his whole body shaking as he falls apart at the seams. His own arm lights up; a bright purple that embodies all the poison inside of him. Distress seethes from his every pore and Shiro thinks that he’s going to melt into the floor.

Not again.

The coherence of those two words is short lived. The world is abruptly narrowed down between three things: a cell, a coliseum, and a bedroom. The future is nothing. It’s nowhere insight and even then so far off Shiro couldn’t even hope reach it. There is no guarantee that Shiro will live past the next minute let alone the next day. This fact breaks Shiro’s bones, splits his skull in half, and turns his soul into a pit of black tar.

 What will he do? How is he ever going to help anyone again?

There are two forms of distraction Shiro from the bleakness and both of them feel like cyanide pills of different colors. They’re stains that tarnish the fabric of Shiro’s being inside and out.

“This is not the Galra ship - “ the soldier says. Shiro doesn’t believe the words, they can’t pierce the illusion trapping Shiro, helpless like a spiders web. “This is the Castle of Lions: epitome of Princess Allura’s rebellion against Zarkon.”

The Castle of Lions. Princess Allura. These Shiro remembers, he’s got the rebellion. He’s got the others. The - the other pilots - they’re a muddy messy picture. Still all the pieces fall together like dominos in a line. It feels like a break in the clouds that pour acid rain across Shiro’s mind. But there are a lot of clouds and Shiro’s mind is still burning up beneath them.

The Galra soldier moves so slowly - cautiously, even. Shiro doesn’t know what to do, the movements are so clear and they make no move to subdue Shiro or claw at him, to drag Shiro away and lock him up for who knows how long once more.

“You are currently a leader with a coterie of close humans who admire you for your good character and values. You pilot the black lion, head of Voltron,” The low voice is _the one_. The one that licks up Shiro’s spine in the coldest flames, that holds Shiro down against bedsheets and when another -

Shiro chokes on his next breath, forgets how to inhale properly. “Steady, inhale for five seconds and hold your breath for three before exhaling. _Slowly_. Focus, Shiro.” What is this? It’s hysterical dream. No, a nightmare.

The dominos are falling in a perfect line, Shiro just has to looks at them. The Galra is beside Shiro now, moving behind him. But Shiro turns his head quickly to make sure the alien stays in his vision to some degree. Shiro should keep his head down. Direct eye contact makes the soldiers feel rowdy and provoked. This is okay though, right here and right now. It is. He isn’t going to be attacked. It’s the Castle of Lions…

“Relax your right arm, Shiro. You’ll feel better.” Sendak heeds in a flat, rolling tone that is simultaneously assuaging and piquing other thoughts. New ones, not necessarily better but kind that burn a hole in the film layering over what’s real. The purple recedes in flickering filters and when Shiro looks down he sees that the arm the druids had given him is no longer glowing. Sendak was right, it makes the breathing practice come easier.

Sendak has circled back around to the front of Shiro. Everything finally seems to puzzle back together and Shiro wipes the back of his hand over his sweat-slicked forehead. Shiro wants to fall back onto the floor and stare at the ceiling, but Sendak’s presence restricts the option.

Instead, Shiro pushes himself onto two feet once again and works on further gaining his bearings. Shiro isn’t… embarrassed - no, he isn’t. He’s just… aggravated that Sendak got to see Shiro struggling helplessly beneath the pressure. And Shiro’s aggravated that he isn’t saying what needs to be said.

“Should I be offended?” Sendak asks plainly from Shiro’s right. When Shiro jerks his head in Sendak’s direction, he’s surprised to see Sendak’s expression wound up. It’s obviously unhappy, his brow is knitted together furiously as he takes Shiro in. It’s his average expression intensified ten fold and it makes Shiro’s mind fizzle slightly beneath it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shiro says back, almost flat. Shiro was still feeling shaky. “I just needed a reminder of where I am.”

Sendak turns his nose up slightly at Shiro’s response and stays quiet. Shiro regrets the reply but pushes forward anyways, striding past Sendak to exit the practice room. He tries not seem like he's fleeing but he also just wants to return to the quiet seclusion of his room as fast as possible.

  
He wants to forget the way Sendak brought him down from a spiralling episode, but he can’t and knows he won’t. He can hardly believe he ever had any amnesia in the first place with how vividly the memories seem to replay in his head now.


	2. watch it split apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me a moment to get the hang of but then it was actually really fun to write. Is it angsty? Maybe a bit

Shiro isn’t exactly surprised later that night when Sendak is at his door. Sure, it’s the first time Sendak has made such a pining move, but from his expression earlier in the practice room - Shiro could tell that he would pursue the issue.

Every incident like this, when Shiro gets trapped in a flashback, is simply a natural disaster; a hurricane, a tsunami, an earthquake. Every time is just as scary as the last. Shiro can’t know exactly what will sustain the worst of the damage, what things will be drowned or buried under rock and torn apart in the tempest. But eventually that disaster settles down, it relents not because it’s merciful but because it can’t last forever. Which, really, is just as well. When it does finally quell, then Shiro can begin to recover.

Sendak stays away long enough for Shiro to bandage the most brittle pieces of himself back together. It’s very respectful.

Usually an episode will leave Shiro fatigued as if he had spent the entire day exercising. He’ll fall asleep for at least a couple of hours while his mind takes a breather to recuperate. But this time Shiro returned to his room, settled on his bed, and stared. He alternated between lying down, sitting, an odd meditative technique that Allura showed him not too long ago; the kind she used when she was overwhelmed by everything she had lost as well. Maybe it was because Shiro hadn’t hit rock bottom.

His mind recalls with perfect clarity the way Sendak described Shiro back to himself while he floundered like a fish out of water on the floor of the practice room. How Sendak ground down the _true_ reality. But he also recalls the history that buried him in this grave of a mind in the first place.

Shiro exhales and tells himself that he needs to stop thinking about the circumstances like that. He _is_ alive, so is his mind; and he’s got a lot of important things to do. It, his mind, not a grave, it’s just a ship stuck in muddied water that’s going to take some time to get both free and clean.

He just sometimes wished that believing in that would alleviate more of the tiredness than it does - or should, even.

Regardless, when Sendak requests access to Shiro’s room, Shiro’s stripped down to only the lower half of his regular attire and moderately more relaxed since having spent several hours ruminating in deep thought. Passively, though. The peak of the effect Shiro’s anxiety could have had hit, so most of downhill roll would be generally less intense. Although the tension in his body stutters a bit higher upon Sendak’s arrival. But Shiro takes a deep breath and balls his hands into fists for a second behind getting up to head to the door.  

“That was disconcerting, Shiro.” Sendak says when he enters the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Shiro clenches his jaw for a moment, a flicker of offense burning in him, “Yeah, it was even more uncomfortable when it was happening _to_ _me_.”

Sendak turns from where he had stopped a few paces away from Shiro so he had to stare at Sendak’s back. “I didn’t say it was a nuisance to deal with,” Sendak said, oddly aggressive about the point. His lips curled around the words as he stated Shiro’s assumption and Shiro meets Sendak’s gaze seriously, letting him continue, “it was... “ Sendak crinkles his nose in distaste as he finishes the sentence, stepping closer to Shiro in the process, “troubling, to see you troubled.”

Is that what Shiro is? “Troubled.”

This time Shiro casts his gaze to the side. His arms are crossed fitfully over his chest, his fingers curling against the metal of his Galran arm under Sendak’s words. It’s not exactly that Shiro hasn’t thought that Sendak must care for him in some way, it’s just that… they’ve never spoken about it. Not really. It seems the sort of step taken by - two normal people - in a _relationship_. Neither of them are normal, only one of them are even human. Kind of. Shiro’s arm is a nagging pest. And to call what they have a “relationship” is -

How could Shiro finish that without putting an even more disparaging weight on the both of them.

But nothing about this will ever be normal. How could it be? So do Shiro and Sendak have any right to walk that path? Can they even set foot on it without it crumbling beneath them? Shiro squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

He’s… opened up, to the others. In small doses. They’ve seen him at his worst before - just like Sendak in the practice room, they’ve helped him stay sane afterwards. But for all occasions Shiro has talked about - all of this, everything and anything, he feels something like a _liar_. By omission, maybe? Though Shiro often finds himself not knowing what that entails.

What does it say if Shiro opens up to Sendak, with their past and situation, and finally _doesn’t_? Maybe by even criticizing himself for it, Shiro is putting Sendak in exactly the type of box he’s trying to urge the others to pull him out of.

None of this, though, really defeats the point that’s been driving Shiro into the ground today.

“Do you face those types of recollections often?” Sendak states flatly

“It’s what happens when you escape alien enslavement,” Shiro retorts with as much reservation, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling as he thinks. _This isn’t the time to be bullheaded_. There’s a band aid here that needs to be ripped off.

Sendak tilts back slightly from where he had been closing the distance between them. Either indignant about Shiro’s ungrateful response or not wanting to prod him wrongly. The ultimatum might even be entirely incorrect in Shiro’s mind anyways, but it still evokes a firm reaction inside of him.

“Did you ever think of the ethics of treating a living being like something that was - was just made to do your bidding? When you were a part of the Galra?” Shiro asks promptly, his voice taking on a forward, straight to the point tone as he snapped his head upwards upon addressing Sendak.

And Sendak is appropriately taken aback by the outburst. Now his lips are really curled, Shiro can see a hint of sharp teeth on one side as Sendak’s expression screws up. “You’re talking about our arrangement,” Shiro doesn't dignify Sendak’s correct connection with an answer. He _should_ know. He needs to. Shiro wanted so bad to skip over this part; but it _has_ to be here, it _has_ to happen. No matter how unpleasant. This is where they see if this abhorrent balancing act will topple or not. “It was a proposition, it always was. I ensured whether you desired it.”

“Yes, you’re right, I did! But Sendak, you know that _desiring_ something and it being _okay_ are two different things, right? Do you?” Shiro points out, trying not to let his voice adopt a sharpened edge. He couldn’t let this turn into a weapon. Sendak’s eyes narrow like he’s searching for his answer and Shiro presses on. “I wanted it, I did. But I was also a slave. I wasn’t there of my own free will, which means I wasn’t there for _you_ of my own free will. Even if I - I _didn’t_ want it - what exactly could I have done? And don’t say ‘refused,’ because things don’t work that way in that situation.” Shiro’s arms have unwound from across his chest and are resting in uneasy fists at his side.

“And what else?” Sendak questions Shiro darkly, lowly, egging Shiro to continue as though Sendak was standing before a court listening to his crimes being listed off. This wasn't a _trial_ , for godsakes, but Shiro continues.

“And then there were moments where I wasn’t even… when I was just some _thing,_ to you. Like a trophy you enjoyed from time to time.” Shiro states more coldly than he’d like.

Sendak turns his head down with an odd determination. “That was the agreement, I told you that the terms were physical! What do you want?” Sendak’s teeth bare with the reply in a way that’s just natural to him. Intimidation is a facet wound around every aspect of Sendak’s personality, and Shiro does not let it deter him.

“There’s a difference between agreeing to a sex-based relationship and being treated like a sex- _toy_ ,” Shiro tells Sendak. He hates the description with every fiber of his being, but it’s apt. Shiro also hates the faint warble in his tone as he says, “remember Haxus.”

Sendak scoffs like he had just heard a poor joke. “My second in command that _child_ eliminated,” he says. For a moment Shiro thinks he’s going to completely overlook why Shiro’s brought the dead comrade up before Sendak seems to register the importance.

Shiro nods shortly, “Exactly. You shared me with him and dismissed what I’d thought, I was a _reward_. I don’t care how it ended or felt. It was degrading,” and there it was. Truly, it was one of the most debasing moments of Shiro’s entire time there. An instance where Shiro really thought he would alternate between a toy and a weapon. He’d be an implement of entertainment for however long he managed to survive. “ - you didn’t listen to me. I wasn’t a mutual partner. I was a Galra captive who just so happened to be under your sector who you took an interest in.” Shiro lays out his stance, only just realizing that he had said the point of debasing and being a tool of entertainment out loud as well. It made his own eyes wide and all at once made Sendak defenseless.

Still Sendak doesn’t break eye contact, and Shiro can see the waver in his expression. Shiro’s words must make something inside Sendak - deep inside of him - click into place.

“I see.” Sendak says. Thoughtfulness sets in heavily in Sendak’s expression, his lips curved down severely. Shiro runs one hand over the side of his head and lets it settle at the nape of his neck as silence spans between the two of them. Sendak cuts through it though, “Your point is… very accurate.” The sentence takes an almost physical effort for Sendak to say, it appears. “I have forgotten my wrongdoings; where they’ve burned into you, it seems.”

“That year there, Sendak: it was a nightmare.” Shiro confides, letting his shoulders slump beneath the weight of just saying the truth. “It was a nightmare. I… I thought I would die there. I worried every day that one of my friends would die there, I still do. And you - you were a commander. You were untouchable, and yes, I agreed - but you were also still a part of that nightmare, regardless of what happens now.”

A deep noise reverberates out of Sendak’s throat. “It’s surprising - to be faced with this tapestry.” Sendak returns. Shiro can see the grind of his teeth as he speaks, “I don’t like it. To see what I’ve done, but I accept that I must face it. If you’ll have me yet.” Sendak says. His voice is not stubbornly flat but calm and slightly… downcast, maybe?

Then Shiro can make it out on his face.

 _Regret_.

All this time it’s been plainly obvious what has been motivating Sendak. Spite, vengeance, resentment at being stripped of the glory of his rank in the Galra and tossed to the gutters. They’re self-centered drives, but still rather absolute.  

But right now, in Sendak’s voice and on his sleeve - Shiro can see more. Whether it’s a new development or one Sendak has been pondering prior to this moment, it’s there. Remorse. _Repentance_. Something better than indignation and scorn.

The potential those traits have to build a better foundation for Sendak’s share of this rebellion is _so_ … hopeful.

“There’s… “ Shiro begins again. Both he and Sendak have drifted closer and finally Shiro raises one hand to clutch at the fabric of Sendak’s shirt more brazenly. “There’s a lot of reasons I shouldn’t want to be here - with you, trying to salvage this mess.” He breathes out the words, staring at the line of Sendak’s broad shoulder before meeting his one yellow eye. “But I do. I want this, I want it to be different and better - with you.”

Sendak lowers his head, bends over entirely - if Shiro’s being honest, in order to rest his his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck. Shiro does the same, leaning up and into and against Sendak and throwing his opposite arm around his neck to do so.

And Shiro feels the most odd mending sensation. It makes his next breath come out in a soft shudder as he swallows thickly.

There was a version of this argument where Sendak doesn’t understand, where he doesn’t care. Where he confirms every last fear that Shiro had and let everything they have - or could have - crumble to dust between them. But Sendak didn’t.

  
“My apologies, Shiro. The sincerest of them. I was wrong, and I was unworthy.” Sendak rumbles, both of his arms winding around Shiro, “I will make it up to you, I will do what needs to be done. You have my word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now comes the fun part for chapter 3 >:^) hint, it's gonna be nsfw


	3. hold fast in the aftershock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I'm so sorry this took so long. My muse got funky, so I've been working on it in bits and pieces over the month. But here it is finally - sorry if there are any mistakes, I beta'd and edited it myself as I don't really have a beta for these writings but oh well I tried
> 
> It's nice sex

It’s completely abstract when Shiro wakes up the next morning beside Sendak, the two of them pushed close together on Shiro’s bed. It had happened before, but this time it was new. New in that there’s a strange, untried evolution in their… this. Their re-negotiated agreement.

Shiro awoke again with sweaty palms and a rigid, frozen body. His mind jarred once again by the unresponsiveness of the body it resides in, helpless. Every muscle is fraught with coiled stress, perpetually twisted with trepidation like prey paused in the moment right before a predator pounces on it. And that’s the horror of it. Feeling like you’ll never be able to have closure to the immobilizing fear.

But it passes after a while and it’s nearly as easy as waking up should be. Shiro’s mind slips back into the reigns of his body and Shiro relaxes. Tries to relax.

And as Shiro does, one hand curls around his waist. Then Sendak presses his forehead against the nape of Shiro’s neck and growls in irritation - which, honestly? Shiro thinks it’s a little early. But it’s Sendak’s morning hello that makes his breath shallow, “ _How are you not angry_?” Sendak’s voice is slightly groggy, he must have waken up recently. Though how much Sendak saw of Shiro’s state is unsure.

Enough, apparently.

“I would be apoplectic if I were you. I would want to crush every single piece of the Zarkon’s empire beneath my heel and then burn it up.” Sendak says unhappily. He keeps his voice low but vicious nonetheless. Offended. “And yet you - you’re the way you are, fighting for what? Your _peace_ ,” the last word rolls of Sendak’s tongue like it didn’t fit Sendak’s taste palette, but they can work on that another time, “Do you not feel a fire for revenge inside of you? For the burden forced upon you.”

An awful lot of Shiro’s pause between a reply is filled with the accumulation of endearment.

“I’m going to stop them, Sendak. Don’t think I’m not determined to because I’m not doing it with scorned fury,” Shiro responds, twisting half onto his back to turn his head towards Sendak who meets his eyes, “like you are.” He notes. “I guess… if I do it all in the name of some vengeance for what I’ve endured alone - ? To think of the picture so small is a shame. These scars - “ Shiro casts a glance across his bare torso and arm, which indeed crossed with scars, swallowing thickly, “inside and out; they’re a part of who I am - now.” And right now, every minute Shiro is free, is a minute he can put towards working on living with them. Not that Shiro comes out and says that. No, these are more private. A drive he doesn’t quite want to share aloud, even if it might be obviously. There are billions enslaved by Zarkon who don’t have that freedom. They’re only gathering more scars by the day and know no peace to be acquainted with them. That’s one thought that plagues Shiro in particular whenever he feels insecure about his body, whenever he looks at Galra space with Allura or steps foot in the lion. It’s a poltergeist that Shiro can’t shed, and doesn’t quite intend to. Sometimes it’s the only motivation he can - sometimes it’s the only skeleton that keeps Shiro upright, on his feet and _trying_.

An even more quiet voice in Shiro’s head admits that sometimes that does include anger, anger on their behalf. But he copes with that part too.

“If I’m being angry for myself, then I’m not working to help them with the best of my ability. And plus, if I were angry about my afflictions, that would just make it ten times harder to live with them - and myself. Which does nobody any good.”

Sendak sniffs, absorbing Shiro’s explanation. His expression is once more stern and severe. There seems to be no in between for this Sendak and the one with a quick smirk and boastful remark. But Sendak makes a resigned _hmph_ that Shiro has come to know as him accepting a statement.

“I will be vengeful for you, hm?” Sendak states stubbornly. Shiro does not deny the feather light upward curve of his lips. Speaking of which, Shiro twists his head to brush his lips over Sendak’s briefly. In one following undulation, Shiro turns his whole body to face Sendak, who uses one hand to fit them together more snugly.

 _This_ is also new and strange.

Sendak hesitates, but then he doesn’t. Their mouths meet and move against one another. Shiro forgot what it was like to _kiss_ someone, for real. To lock lips and taste another gingerly, savoring their uniqueness. He forgot the inquisitivity of kissing for the first time, getting acquainted with the other in this way. Somehow, Shiro might think that kissing Sendak isn’t a good instance to build nostalgia off of. After all, how many others would Shiro have kissed that have bat ears, fur on their necks, and fangs?

Oh well. In this moment, it’s _nice_. Shiro needs nice. Just for a second.

Sendak’s mouth is very disproportionate to Shiro’s, which he seems to take into consideration with their careful movements. They’re almost… shy. No, that’s certainly not the word. Heavily reserved. Sendak let’s Shiro be the one to push forward exploratively, reciprocating softly.

After a couple minutes of this Shiro rolls his hips against Sendak’s and he takes the cue to heart. Sendak props himself up before pushing himself up to his knees, using the hand on Shiro’s side to roll him into his stomach. It’s… routine. Sendak isn’t pushy about getting Shiro into position on all fours either, and Shiro isn’t hesitant about assuming said position. It’s Sendak’s favorite, really. Shiro on his hands and knees before him - he tries not to think about it too much. Not that that means he doesn’t, as always.

Sendak bows down over Shiro’s form, drawing a line with his lips instead of his teeth along the curve of Shiro’s neck.

Shiro isn’t reluctant about assuming the position, and Sendak is trying, he knows. But Shiro is still… jittery. The morning paralysis always leaves Shiro mildly anxious and off-balance, and that on top of the general frailty of Shiro’s head since the past couple days - it makes for a poor concoction. Being on his hands and knees, staring at the bedsheets, being unable to see Sendak is making Shiro’s heart lurch up into his throat. He shivers at the way Sendak’s metal hand traces down the curve of his back, but with a desire to crawl away from the touch - while at the same time wanting to do this, right here and now.

Just not like this at the same time.

Shiro’s body shakes - anxiety pierces vertically through Shiro’s body and he releases an uneasy breath, screwing his eyes shut as Sendak slips two fingers under the band of Shiro’s underwear. He wants to say something but isn’t sure how Sendak would react. Sendak certainly handled their argument yesterday with a hopeful amount of understanding but this soon? For sex?

But Shiro’s worries go out the window when his breath hitches and a vivid memory of laughter from behind him invades his mind. Shiro throws one arm back reflexively, cutting through the memory and its potential to take control. He presses his fingers against Sendak’s side and steels himself. “W-wait,” Shiro requests in a breathless, sickly tone as he drops his head onto the sheets along with the rest of his body.

 _Now_ Shiro feels slightly embarrassed. After all, he gave the cue.

Sendak gives a throaty noise and let’s Shiro lay down again. Instead of leaving Shiro with some notion that he needs space, Sendak sinks down beside Shiro once more to rest with him. “No, then?” Sendak presses cautiously, tone flat and non-judgemental. Never judgemental, here, Shiro remembers.

Shiro shakes his head a couple times and then turns to look at Sendak, his cheek against the bed. “No, we can. Just, a different position would be better.” Shiro answers, assessing the way Sendak stares down at him from where he’s leaned on one arm. Shiro swallows thickly and offers explanation, figuring it’s polite, “I’m still feeling… off.”

Sendak hums in response. Sometimes Shiro wonders how Sendak feels about things. It must be odd inside of his mind. After all, Shiro very much doubts Sendak ever intended to be in this situation as well.

The two pause for a couple minutes as a breather before Shiro roves his eyes across Sendak and they try again. Sendak taps his index finger against Shiro’s shoulder twice and says, “Up.” Sendak stays in place, propped on his side as Shiro pushes himself up once more to his knees, albeit no longer with Sendak pressing formidably against him. Then Shiro can see what Sendak’s getting at and takes initiative himself, sucking in a calming breath that he lets unwind through his muscles and mind. Shiro steadies one hand against Sendak's shoulder, pushing Sendak down onto his back as Shiro throws one leg over Sendak’s waist so that he’s straddling him.

It’s odd to hover over Sendak like this. Shiro with both hands splayed across Sendak’s broad, lightly furred chest, holding him down, Sendak compliant beneath him. Well, so far compliant. It makes Shiro’s mouth go dry.

Sendak seems to be thinking it over, his expression mild and impassive as he takes in the sight of Shiro in his lap, his own back against the sheets.

Shiro’s expression softens ever so slightly, finding a dim amount of amusement with the whole position. Sendak in turn runs one hand slowly up Shiro’s side and along his smooth and toned chest. Shiro can’t help but do the same, letting his hands map indulgently along the planes of Sendak’s torso. And for a moment there’s only the soft rustling of this - of Shiro and Sendak feeling each other as Shiro bends down to kiss Sendak curiously a second time. It transforms quickly. Their mouths part and Shiro turns his head, letting Sendak curl one hand around the curve of Shiro’s throat and trail his thumb idly against his adam’s apple. Sendak leans up and shallowly drags his teeth along Shiro’s jaw only to immediately lick across the areas, even though he’d barely put effort into grazing his teeth over Shiro’s skin.

It’s maddening all the same. Shiro can feel his face heating up and his veins starting to buzz familiarly. He ruts his hips down, searching for friction against his bared and growing erection - only to find Sendak sporting as well. The press of Sendak’s interested member sparks against Shiro’s own arousal more. Shiro digs his teeth into his lower lip as Sendak laps at his jaw between light nips. He reaches back rather blindly to find the hem of Sendak’s pants and try and work the material down lower. The angle is awkward and Shiro can’t find the right tactic with his whole body facing the other way, so Sendak lets his hand cupping Shiro’s neck wander away to get them down low enough to release his cock before the material became too restricting. It made Shiro grateful he had shed his boxers earlier.

Shiro could feel how Sendak’s cock was just starting to become slick and it added to the warmth in his cheeks. Shiro again pushed at Sendak’s shoulder, reminding him to stay laying down. Sendak obliges a bit fitfully, settling both hands one Shiro’s waist for all of two seconds before one wanders back to grip at Shiro’s rear. Which, Shiro bucks back into and lets his head drop slightly. Then he lowers himself more, resting his head against Sendak’s shoulder with a heavier breath as he sucks two digits into his own mouth and works at getting them wet.

Shiro can practically feel Sendak’s stare in heat rays boring into his skin as Shiro wets the two fingers. When they’re sufficiently spit-lathed, Shiro removes them and pushes himself back up, leaning forward to raise his hips and ensure a more accessible angle. There’s little resistance when Shiro enters himself. Shiro rolls his head back with a sigh, arching his back and laboring to finger himself deeper.

Sendak sits up at a low angle, braced on one forearm, and licks a stripe along the muscles of Shiro’s abdomen. His other hand is steadied on Shiro’s thigh as Shiro sways back onto his own digits, scissoring and twisting them inside of himself. The added sensation makes Shiro quiver and release a faint gasp; his fingertips drag close to his prostate once, twice - but Shiro denies himself that. He doesn’t want to get lost in this.

So shortly after, Shiro removes his fingers with a small hum, letting his eyelids flutter back open to meet lock his line of sight with Sendak’s. And God, if Sendak isn’t _seething_ lust from every pore -

He’s still propped up, his head pressed close to Shiro’s stomach as he looks up at Shiro. It makes Shiro’s mouth fill with cotton. Shiro pushes Sendak back with one hand and using the other to take Sendak’s cock by the base and guide it where he needs it most.

It’s so good. It’s nearly perfect.

There’s something about Sendak’s command weathered control and natural dominance that leaves Shiro dizzy at the thought of being underneath it, heeling and yielding to it. Shiro’s always had a sex drive that got away from him, despite his personality that appears to the contrary for most. For so long Shiro had kept them in the dark, restrained them even when he would get laid - an occurrence he rarely lent himself to because of the rumors that anyone could spread. There wasn’t anything wrong with sex, and Shiro didn’t think many who had been close to him would have judged him harshly for any tales that might have gone around; but there was something about the idea that always made Shiro sheepish.

An age old debate.

But here with Sendak, it’s easy. At times Shiro wonders if it could become too easy. Sendak indulges Shiro. _Would_ indulge Shiro, he knows, on any whim he asked. It was plain to see. And with this new path they’ve set about crafting from scraps like junkers, it might be that Shiro would feel more comfortable than ever with his sexual appetite. Lazy, even. That’s what scared him, he supposed.

The introspection lasts for all of sixty seconds before Shiro re-focuses his mind. What was the point in the first place? Ah, yes. Shiro may swoon over Sendak’s dominance, but this: Sendak like putty beneath him, with no rush or aggression, it’s surprisingly intoxicating. Almost as much as the usual. Almost.

But it’s exactly what Shiro wants right now. The end of Sendak’s cock is pressed to Shiro’s entrance. The resistance is more than average this time, as Shiro’s fingers can’t measure up to Sendak’s cock or preparation; but Shiro enjoys the burn and ache of it.

He has to bite down on his hand as he gradually slides down the length of Sendak’s cock. It’s more filling than ever. A mixture of the intensity between Sendak and he, Shiro supposes, and the way Shiro’s senses become odd when he’s feeling anxious. It’s as if Shiro can acutely feel every inch of Sendak’s cock pushing the boundary of his body, the sting as Sendak becomes thicker at the base, the brush of the head of his cock across his prostate before Shiro is fully sheathed and breathing heavily through lazily half-lidded eyes. It’s almost too much in this position, it’s makes Shiro’s mind reel for a second.

But then Shiro has to roll his head back and relish the moment. The absolute fullness, Sendak beneath his palms and between his legs. It’s so close to complete contentment in the storm that’s been in Shiro’s weak this week that it’s addictive. He could stay in this moment forever. God, it feels so good.

After a second, Shiro accepts that time isn’t going to stop because he wants it to and shifts his hips. Sendak gives a grunt, his fingertips fluttering ever so minutely where they hold Shiro’s waist. And Sendak is so amazingly unsettled and restless in this position that it sets free a rampant fluttering in Shiro’s chest. The signs are tiny. It’s doubtful that anyone who isn't as accustomed to Sendak as Shiro is, who knows all of those tiny details that signal his mood in these scenarios, would be able to pick up on.

But there’s a quality in that that strikes a chord in Shiro’s head and makes a soft smile linger on his lips as he rolls his hips and feel the full length of Sendak’s cock grind hardly into him. Shiro makes a throaty noise as he exhales and repeats, teasing the fire inside himself with small movements of his hips.

Shiro rocks slowly, finding a grip on some of the thicker fur along Sendak’s shoulder. A soft pace. Shiro relishes the sounds, the intimacy of the shifting noises between their bodies, his own heavy breathing and Sendak’s lovely, lower grunts and the tweaks in his facial expression as he tries to not be too vocal - too anything, so as not to overwhelm Shiro. In a usual session, there’s too much dominance, too much of Sendak encompassing everything around and inside of Shiro until his head is overflowing with the white noise of being fucked senseless. Not this time though. No Shiro is so conscious and _grounded_.

He lifts his hips up high, feeling Sendak slide most of the way out of him before letting gravity bring his body back down with a faltering breath. _Oh yes_. Shiro draws out another long and hitched exhale as he does it again, breaking into a tandem of short huffs as he picks up the pace. Shiro’s head drops, heat burning white-hot in his cheeks as he watches between his own legs where Sendak’s cock enters him with each rise and fall of Shiro’s hips. Ah, god, watching it happen is like an aphrodisiac, wrenching a choked whimper from Shiro’s throat as he looks back over to Sendak’s face.

And Sendak is watching Shiro observe the way he fucks himself on his cock and is staring at Shiro with some painfully withheld lust. Quickly, Shiro rides down hard onto Sendak’s cock, his left hand moving over Sendak’s wear it digs into Shiro’s side, coaxing it to curl into the skin until Sendak’s claws leave scratch marks that have Shiro biting back a light groan.

Every rushed inhale slips back out of Shiro’s lips in a high pitched sound of desperation, and Shiro says what’s on his mind - not because he can’ think of anything else to do but because he knows what Sendak likes, “Thank you, Sendak. _Hah-hn -_ thank you so much, oh god - “ Shiro squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in Sendak’s shoulder, dropping onto his elbows as he shivers bodily, “It feels so good - you feel _so good_.” he punctuates this praise with a light moan purred into the alien’s ear and he feels Sendak go rigid beneath him for a second before canting his hips up with a restrained and thoughtful force, pulling a drawn-out noise from where Shiro’s caught his own lower lip between his teeth.

“ _Mhfph_ \- !” Shiro muffles his own noise before letting out a subdued cry. Sendak begins to meet the fall of Shiro’s hips with his own upwards thrusts, not aggressively by far. In fact, the subtleness of the motions repeatedly seem to catch Shiro off guard and knock his breath askew as he tried to catch it. His right hand releases it’s grip and slides coldly along the curve of Shiro’s back as he works himself to completion on Sendak’s cock.

“ _Ah-hah_ \- god, _please_ ,” Shiro murmurs breathless, begging because he likes to and knowing full well he doesn’t have to. This time.

He’s so close. His cock is aching and throbbing, yearning to be stroked. Sendak’s cock is practically pulsating inside of Shiro, on the verge of release as well. “ _Please_ \- “ Sendak pleads, sickly sweet. He brushes his lips along the juncture between the side of Sendak’s face and his ear, pressing his cheek to Sendak’s as he speaks, “please come inside of me. I want it, so bad. So good, oh god - “ Shiro cuts himself off with an open mouth gasp.

Sendak seems to be entirely speechless. Or maybe just so focused on staying subordinate beneath Shiro that he’s forgotten he can speak at all. But then Sendak lets out a relinquishing groan as he fucks gently up into Shiro. Taking the cue, Shiro ceases the riding, grind hard against Sendak and sits up, gripping Sendak’s thighs behind him. Shiro draws his body tight around Sendak with a desperate expression, his mouth still agape and finally - Sendak comes inside of Shiro, hot and overfilling and _pure bliss_.

It drives Shiro over the edge entirely and he’s coming in strips of wet, pearly strands across Sendak’s stomach with one hand stifling himself through it.

The shuddering subsides after a minute or two and Shiro’s whole body sags with the relief of blessed orgasm. Shiro’s mind feels as light as a well-rested morning should. For the moment wiped clean and polished with a layer of pleasantness and buzzes comfortably inside of him.

Shiro’s strewn over Sendak, his head resting in the shallow nook of the alien’s collar bone as he breathes so peacefully someone might believe he had fallen asleep.

“Off - “ Sendak says, his hands shifting Shiro - who is pliant and moves with ease to roll onto his side, “I’ll get the cloth.” He crinkles his nose at the empty feeling left in the wake of Sendak pulling out. It’s very polite that Sendak is the one to leave the room and get something to clean up with, Shiro realizes. Usually, when they’re in Sendak’s dorm, he’s already got supplies on hand. He’s awfully prepared.

The information is little more than a nice note.

  
For now, after feeling so utterly exhausted the past few days, Shiro’s enjoys the restfulness circulating through his system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have more planned, bt I'm still totally open to hearing prompts in the comments or @galaxynoxious.tumblr.com (it's a clusterfuck my apologies)


End file.
